


Falling Thunder

by GalahadWilder



Category: Constantine, DC Comics, Hellblazer, Justice League, Justice League Dark, Justice League of America
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:48:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11991096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Captain Marvel, the Champion of Magic, is eleven years old. The defender of the Earthly Plane from all malicious forces, whether the legions of Hell or the depredations of mortal wizards, is still a child.What sort of child can bear that weight? What sort of person IS Billy Batson?The superheroes, and the anti-heroes, of the DCU are going to need to have a good, long talk with the wizard Shazam.





	1. Chapter 1

As the boy fell, he wondered if Superman would be proud of him.

He fell through the clouds, lighting crashing all around him, the smell of electricity and ozone filling his nose. He tasted blood. His own.

He could see the lights of the city through a hole in the clouds below him, spread out across both banks of the river. Fawcett City, sprawling gently across his field of vision, rising up to welcome him. It didn’t seem to be getting any closer, but he knew that was an illusion. He knew he was falling.

Above him, he saw the giant robot, battered and smashed with the imprints of his fist in its body. No, not a robot–a mech. A giant warsuit, built to kill him. The chair was empty, the scientist having teleported away less than a minute ago.

The mech WAS going to kill him. Not in the expected way, though. With its massive metal body just above him, all the electricity was drawn to it, instead of his own body. He couldn’t call the lightning to himself. The power that made him the mightiest of mortals, that allowed him to stand amongst the gods, was beyond his reach.

All he could hear was the buffeting sound of winds crashing against his ears. Idly, he wondered if he would break the sound barrier. Would he hear the sonic boom, when it came? Would he feel it?

Batman could have done it better, he thought. Superman as well. He wished he could have gotten the mech suit clear of the city first; he hoped the space below them had been evacuated. He could have done this better. He could have saved more.

Eleven-year-old Billy Batson was going to die, and he felt he was ready for that. He closed his eyes, settling in to listen to the whistling of the wind past his ears, waiting for the impact of the ground.

The sonic boom was farther away than he had expected, and he hadn’t felt it. He opened his eyes to find the mech was gone–just clouds. Had he turned? Was he still looking at the same place? He turned, and there was the city. He looked up, and the mech was gone. Vanished.

The wind stopped. Suddenly, he was looking at a field of blue, a pair of strong limbs wrapped around his back.

“You okay there, Captain?” said the familiar voice of Superman.  
Billy’s eyes traveled up to the face he knew so well, the face that adorned the posters across the walls of his room. And, suddenly, he realized that he was alive.

He gasped.

“I was going to die,” he sobbed. “I was so sure I was going to die.”

Superman hugged him close. “You’re okay, Billy,” he said. “You’re alive. We look after our own.”

Billy cried into Superman’s chest.

“You can call us if you need us, you know,” Superman murmured. “Justice League watches each other’s backs.”

“I didn’t want to be a bother…” Billy said.

“Don’t worry about me,” Superman said. “Superman is always on call. You need me, I’m there.” He looked down at the city below them. “You got the mech clear of urban areas before you started fighting? That’s good work.”

“Thanks,” Billy said. He pushed himself away from Superman’s chest. “SHAZAM!” he screamed, and in an instant, lightning enveloped his body, and eleven-year-old Billy Batson was replaced with the muscular, semi-adult form of Captain Marvel.

“You okay on your own?” Superman said.

“Yeah,” Marvel replied. “I can handle the cleanup.”

“Okay,” Superman said with a jaunty salute. “I’m proud of you.” He blurred, and then was gone.

Captain Marvel hung in the air above Fawcett City, grinning widely. He’d won, he’d survived. Superman was proud of him.

It had been a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

If you'd asked the boy if he believed in evil, he'd say yes.

This is not unusual. Children believe all kinds of things are evil. To an eleven-year-old, homework is evil, and bedtime is evil, and bullies are evil, just as ice cream and cartoons are good. They do not have an adult's sense of nuance, that evil and good can be wrapped up together, that homework and bedtime exist for a reason and that ice cream can be just as bad for you as anything else.

But if you asked this boy if he believed in good, he might say no. Most eleven-year-olds, after all, haven't dueled the literal forces of Hell, and the demon children of the man they admired above all others.

He sat on a cardboard box in a back alleyway, staring at the filthy asphalt before him, marveling at the difference between it and the clean white sheen of his cape, of the metallic purity of his bracers. The world was not as he'd like it to be, as he hoped he could be, and sometimes he wondered if it was still worth defending. Everything he'd fought in there, after all, had been a person once. Every life he saved might still go down there someday.

The man in the tan trench coat coughed as he lit a cigarette and lifted it to his lips. "First time in Hell, mate?"

The boy shook his head. "Something like the fifth by this point, I think."

The other man--Constantine, he'd said his name was--sucked in a breath, then coughed it back out, blasting hot smoke from his teeth as he slammed a fist into his chest. "Damn," he said, once the coughing had calmed. "Never thought you Justice League wankers had it in ya." He took another drag from his cigarette. "How'd you get roped into it?"

"Satanus," Captain Marvel responded. "And Sabbac."

Constantine nodded sagely. "Right nasty ones, they are," he said. He put his cigarette to his lips, sucking the smoke into his lungs and exhaling a cloud of particulate that almost seemed to resemble a dragon. "You all right there, lad? You seem a bit queasy."

Marvel bent down, putting his head between his knees. "I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing... that," he said. He could still see them in his mind's eye, the headless torsos bent double and chanting blasphemous praises towards a tower drenched in blood. "How do you do it?"

Constantine shook his head. "You know, most blokes I know would've tossed their lunch, first time they saw Hell," he said. "I know I did." He ground out his cigarette on the brickwork behind him. "Most of 'em are pretty jaded by trip three. By then it's just scenery."

"I wish it was that easy," Billy murmured.

Constantine sighed. "No, lad, you don't," he said. "If you've been to Hell five times, and you still react like this?" He grabbed Marvel's shoulder. "That means you're strong. Strong enough to look Hell in the face and keep staring, even if it hurts. Strong enough to still believe in capital G good." He dropped his cigarette to the asphalt and ground it out with his heel. "The rest of us? We blinked." He poked Billy in the sternum, right at the widest point of the glowing lightning bolt that covered his chest. " _You_  didn't." He pulled another cigarette out of the pack in his coat pocket and snapped, allowing his thumb to catch fire. "I can see why The Wizard chose you."

Billy raised his head. "You know the Wizard?"

Constantine lit the cigarette, then shook the flame from his thumb. "You don't dabble in the magic arts for thirty years without knowing a thing or two about the wizard Shazam," he said. "Bit surprised though, I thought he hadn't taken a champion since what's-his-name from Khandaq."

"Black Adam."

"That's the one." Constantine flipped open the pack of cigarettes, then flipped it closed again. "I know a lot of blokes who'd kill to have the power you've got. If you don't mind me askin', what is it makes you so special?"

Marvel looked up at him. "Promise not to tell anyone?"

Constantine nodded. "Swear it on me life, kid."

"SHAZAM!"

Constantine looked him up and down, observing the smoke that streamed from the boy's arms, the still-unformed body of a child revealed in place of the muscular frame of the Champion of Magic. He said nothing, his face growing steadily redder. "I think," he ground out, finally, "I might need to have a _talk_ with this Shazam."


	3. Chapter 3

"Why do I always let myself get dragged inta this?" Harley Quinn muttered to herself as she paced the Justice League saferoom.

Captain Marvel sat on a chair nearby, watching her pirouette around the room. "Forgive me for saying this, Miss Quinn, but... I don't see how this is your fault."

Harley stopped and turned to him, smiling maternally. "Aww, you're a sweet kid, ain'tcha," she said, patting his cheek. "But nah, I made my bed with Mistah J a long time ago. Guess I gotta lie in it."

Marvel pursed his lips, trying to remember what he'd read about her in the Justice League files. It hadn't been much--he'd never really expected to deal with her, so he hadn't made a point to memorize it.

"It's Doctah, by the way," she said, interrupting his train of thought. "Not Miss. Doctah Harleen Quinzel. But you can call me Harley."

Marvel tilted his head. "Really?" he asked. "You're a doctor?"

Harley nodded. "And not one of those 'Ima big bad scary man' like what's-his-name... Fate?" She shook her head. "Nah, I'm a real doctah. Licensed psychiatrist."

"Wow," Marvel said. "So how'd you end up... here?" He gestured at the safe house, a nondescript apartment that Green Arrow maintained somewhere in Central City. It was decided that Joker knew a few too many of Batman's secrets to be able to properly keep Harley safe, so Barry had decided to improvise.

Harley laughed. "What, you mean _aside_  from my ex-boyfriend threatenin' to turn a city block to jelly?" She sat and stared contemplatively at the white walls of the apartment. "Short answer? Fell in love."

Billy twiddled his thumbs. "That's... not so bad, is it?"

She glanced at him sideways. "I fell in love with tha _Joker_."

He stopped. "Oh."

"Yeah." She untied her pigtails and ran her hands through her hair. "I've done a lot of bad things since then, ya know. A bunch of things I regret."

"With all due respect, Doctor Quinn, I've _been_  to Hell," Marvel said. "I've seen a lot of bad people doing a lot of bad things. And... you know, Batman's been keeping track of what you've been up to lately."

"Really?" Quinn's face fell. "Wait, I thought I'd been staying under tha radar. You sayin' he's known where I was this whole time?"

"I mean..." Marvel shrugged. "He's _Batman_."

"Dammit. And here I thought I was bein' so clever." She sniffled. "Why ain't he come for me yet, then?"

"Most of what you've been doing lately has been helping people," Marvel said. "Batman... the League... we all believe in second chances. That's why we're protecting you now."

Quinn looked at him with limpid eyes, tears welling up beneath her lids. Then she leaped at Marvel, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Th-thank you," she sobbed. "I can't believe yer all protectin' me, even after what I've done."

Marvel patted her back awkwardly. "It's... what we do?"

* * *

 

"Mistah J likes to think he's random, but he ain't as unpredictable as he thinks," Quinn said, spreading a map of Blüdhaven across the table. "He'll have put tha disruptahs heah, heah, and heah."

Green Arrow nodded, stroking his goatee. "Those are some of the buildings Nightwing pointed out," he said. "They're abandoned, and high up--good vantage points."

Quinn smiled. "Nightwing? Is he tha little guy that used ta be Robin?" She laughed. "Tell 'im I said hi!"

Arrow squinted at her. "How did you... _know_ that?"

She giggled. "I know lotsa things, Mistah Queen."

He stared at her, eyes wide. "Uh... right. I need to... go?" he said, pointing towards the door.

The door promptly shattered inward. Arrow rolled, bow already knocked, and Quinn took barely a second to rip the leg off her chair, holding it at the ready like a baseball bat. But neither one of them was quite as fast as Marvel, who was already halfway across the room by the time the vines had breached the door, followed by the the green-skinned form of Poison Ivy. “Where’s Harley?” She screamed.

Arrow loosed, the broad point diving for her shoulder. But Billy Batson has several things that Oliver Queen did not: the Speed of Mercury, and the Wisdom of Solomon. He recognized the distraught note in Ivy’s voice, processed it without thinking, and before he’d even realized what he was doing he’d caught the arrow in midair, an inch from Harley’s chest. She’d tried to dive in front of it.

Everything in the room fell silent for a moment, as the four realized how close they’d come to disaster. Marvel clenched his fist, shattering the arrow and allowing the splinters to fall to the ground, and everyone breathed simultaneous sighs of relief.

“I’m fine, Pammie,” Harley said, without taking her trembling eyes off Green Arrow. “They’re protecting me from Mistah J.”

“Oh thank God,” Ivy said, surging forward on a wave of plant life and gathering Harley up into a full-body hug. “I was so worried.” Ivy turned the smaller woman around and kissed her as deeply as their awkward positioning would allow.

Their embrace was broken by the clatter of Green Arrow dropping his bow and falling to his knees. “I could have killed you,” he said, staring at Harley. “I could have... you could have died.”

Harley looked over at Captain Marvel and smiled. “Well, lucky fer you, someone here’s fastah than me.”

Ivy glared at Arrow before turning an appreciative eye to Captain Marvel. “How did you know Harley was going to jump in front of the arrow?”

Marvel shook his head. “I didn’t,” he said. “I just knew you were trying to protect her, same as us.”

Harley smiled. “See, Pammie?” she said. “I told you he was a good kid.”

Ivy grimaced. “I still don’t like the League,” she said.

”Oh, you’re just mad that I think Green Lantern’s butt is better than yours.” Harley marched toward Marvel and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks fer savin’ me,” she said. “Sorry about makin’ you miss a whole day of school.”

“Wh-what?” Marvel said. “I don’t know what you’re—”

”Mhmm,” Harley said, turning back to Ivy. “Come on, babe, lets go beat the stuffin’ out of my ex.”


End file.
